(Re)Claiming Indian Status

R.E.M Burn is a visual poem addressing thematic elements of life and death cycles and traditional knowledge principles. In our initial consideration for this piece, the collective discussed examining the art and fashion world’s appropriation of Indigenous design and iconography. The film quickly became about more than acknowledging the distinction between appropriation and recontextualization, which is increasingly less distinguishable in an age of commodification. As Indigenous people, we understand that knowledge comes from our relationship with ourselves, each other, our communities, our animal relatives, and the land herself. In its truest form, this knowledge is without replication. R.E.M Burn is ultimately a reflection on the land that sustains us, the knowledge she offers, and the responsibility we carry to share those teachings for the well-being of future generations.

An intimate reflection on life in the digital age and Seán McLoughlin's journey through the highest highs - chanting crowds, sold out shows, and marriage proposals - and lowest lows - grappling with loneliness in the harsh Irish winter - and the life and wonder in between.

Documentary about "The Coolbaroo Club",  which was the only Aboriginal-run dance club in a city which practiced unofficial apartheid. During its lifetime, the Club attracted Black musicians and celebrities from all over Australia and occasionally from overseas. Although best-remembered for the hugely popular Coolbaroo dances attended by hundreds of Aborigines and their white supporters, the "Coolbaroo League", founded by Club members, ran a newspaper and became an effective political organization, speaking out on issues of the day affecting Aboriginal people.

A vision from Limbo, where the canoeist of the eternal lake floats in his boat, between sleep and wakefulness. When he sleeps, he dreams of the everyday of a parallel time. when he wakes up, the same song haunts him again and again. his boat, “ara” (time, in guarani) travels through time like a shooting star.

This documentary chronicles the story of Darrell Night, an Indigenous man who was dumped by two police officers in a barren field on the outskirts of Saskatoon in January 2000, during -20° C temperatures. He survived, but he was stunned to hear that the frozen body of another Indigenous man was discovered in the same area.

For years, right-wing politicians and pundits have repeatedly criticized the left for playing “the race card” and “the woman card.” This new film turns the tables and takes dead aim at the right’s own longstanding – but rarely discussed – deployment of white-male identity politics in American presidential elections. Ranging from Richard Nixon’s tough-talking, law-and-order campaign in 1968 to Donald Trump’s hyper-macho revival of the same fear-based appeals in 2020, "The Man Card" shows how the right has mobilized dominant ideas about manhood and enacted a deliberate strategy to frame Democrats and liberals as soft, brand the Republican Party as the party of “real men,” and position conservatives as defenders of white male power and authority in the face of transformative demographic change and ongoing struggles for racial, gender, and sexual equality.

The tower block area "Am Kölnberg" has a bad reputation. People who - for any number of reasons - ended up on the edge of society, live here alongside refugee families and immigrants from all over the world. Unemployment, drug abuse and prostitution are part of everyday life for many of them. The film accompanies 4 people over a period of two years and portrays their life at "Kölnberg" with ups and downs. One thing they all have in common: The dream of leading a fulfilled life, far away from "Kölnberg".

Max "Adlersson" Herzberg, 20 years of age, from Dresden decided not to spend his life working. Ever since, he reviews knives and other products, unboxes limited fan editions of mainly gangsta rap albums, gives talks about himself, drinks, swears and bawls in town, humiliates others, cracks borderline jokes and crosses every boundary he sees - Max is a YouTube creator and makes a decent living off of it. Most of Max's friends have their own channels on YouTube, some even quite successfully. Max and his gang are dubious role models but without a doubt, they are celebrities of their generation having more than 300.000 active fans. Is Max a violence-glorifying influencer with far-right tendencies or a usual adolescent, just trying to find himself and happens to be born into a time where the lines between private life and public self-display are blurring? He might be both, possibly without being overly aware of it.

Guy Debord's analysis of a consumer society.